


You and me, we made a vow.

by thistle_do_nicely



Series: Anthologicon [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistle_do_nicely/pseuds/thistle_do_nicely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: OTP bored at  wedding. Total fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and me, we made a vow.

**Author's Note:**

> Anthologicon is what I intend to be my collection of random Shoot fic. I had thought about calling it “Maybe Someday” but since, (a) some of them will be AU (set in a fluffiverse)/canon divergent or set before If-Then-Else, it didn’t seem right, and (b) someone else has got in there first since I took so long to finish the first one….. 
> 
> Hope you like this one. 
> 
> Set in a version of events where Root and Shaw are together because after the last two chapters of Once More With Feeling I needed a fluff infusion to counteract how heartbreakingly hard that was to write.
> 
> Was listening to Sam Smith (hence the title) and this beautiful song while writing this http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CAjKZJarlwk

 

 

 

Root was bored. If she was bored, Shaw was definitely bored. She wished, almost as much as Shaw did, that they could just get drunk. However, they had a number to keep an eye on. So she continued to sit with her back to the bar, watching their number (the best man) awkwardly shuffle round the dance floor with the maid of honour.

 

Shaw grunted, picking her glass up and taking another sip. It wouldn't be too long before they were supposed to be relieved by John and she figured one whisky was the least that she deserved for being stuck at this wedding in the middle of nowhere. At least they had a decent room in the hotel.

 

“What?” Root said

 

“I didn't actually say anything.”

 

“I know, but you grunted at something and I'm just _dying_ to know why.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

 

“God, yes. I am _so_ bored.” Root pouted.

 

This made Shaw smile. She waved her hand in the direction of the stage where the band were playing. “I'm trying to decide if I think it’s lame or whether it’s, y’know, not.”

 

“’Lame or not lame.’ Sounds like a game show.” Shaw gave a half-hearted eye-roll but couldn't stop the smile that flashed across her face. “So what exactly is it that you haven’t decided is lame or not? The band?”

 

“I’m hardly a music expert. No, look at the screen. Recognise the words?” Shaw turned her head to look at Root who started to read the words sweeping across the screen behind the band.

 

“Uh, what exactly am I looking at? Lyrics?” Root looked confused.

 

“You really don’t recognise those words?” Shaw looked surprised.

 

“Should I?” Root was fleetingly worried that she had forgotten something important but as she thought about it she became certain that if the words were significant to Shaw, or to Shaw and her, that she would definitely remember them.

 

“Uh, how much attention were you actually paying during the ceremony?” Shaw was taking pleasure in the fact that she had one up on Root, who was usually more observant. “Those are their vows.”

 

“Oh. Right. Vows.” Root tried to think why she couldn't remember.

 

A worrying thought suddenly crossed Shaw’s mind and she turned her body round to face Root.  “Root,” her voice low and firm, “where exactly _was_ your mind during that ceremony?”

 

Root remembered, and it made her smile. She turned slightly towards Shaw, leaning back and resting her head on her elbow, which was propped up on the bar.  She was seriously tempted to mess with Shaw and tell her she had been thinking about them getting married but since that would likely mean that one of them was sleeping on the (rather comfy) sofa in the hotel, she decided to tell the truth.

 

“Well, you see, when we turned to watch the bride walk up the aisle I couldn't help admire how ridiculously fine you looked in that dress.”  Her voice was low, seductive, teasing. “I might have been thinking about that for some time afterwards.”

 

“About a dress.” Shaw was going for incredulous but it came out in a slightly higher pitch than intended. Shaw knew what Root had meant, of course.

 

“About what is _under_ that dress. About me taking that dress off. And-“

 

“Yeah, I get the picture Root.” She swallowed, caught somewhere between being turned on and being annoyed that Root had spent most of the ceremony in a much ‘happier’ state than she had. “We still have a few hours of this to see out. Assuming Reese doesn't get tied up and can find this place.”

 

“Fine.” Root pouted again. “I’ll tell you all about it later. And don’t mention Reese being tied up again. Total mood-killer.” That definitely made Shaw smile. Apparently Root couldn't stand any silence. “Maybe it’s not totally lame. The vows on the screen. I mean, at least they wrote their own. The traditional ones kinds suck.”

 

“Yeah they do. ‘Obey’ my ass!” Shaw agreed and immediately regretted her turn of phrase.

 

“Oh, I will -“ Root was on it before Shaw could stop her.

 

“Do _not_ go there, Root.” Cue more putting from Root. Shaw leaned in to Root, speaking just a few inches from the taller woman’s ear, “Seriously, how am I supposed to get through the next two hours if you keep dragging my thoughts into the gutter just to keep your thoughts company?” Shaw’s voice was low and insistent.

 

Root swallowed. If she had only been joking about being turned on before, she definitely knew she was now. She forced her mind elsewhere. Back to those vows.

 

"I can just imagine if you had to write your own vows." Shaw raised an eyebrow as she listened to Root puts on her best attempt at a ‘Shaw impression’. "I will sometimes let you drive. I will let you borrow my nano (and other assorted weaponry). Sometimes I will even share my food with you."

 

"Was that supposed to sound like me?"

 

"Yeah, maybe I need to work on that."

 

“I’d rather you didn't.” Shaw was quiet for what seemed to Root like a lifetime. "But, uh, that's probably about right, I mean, what I _might_ say.” She caught Root’s lips edging up into a smile, prompting her to hastily add, “Not that, you know I’d-"

 

"I know.” Root interrupted. “ _This_ ,” she nodded in the general direction of the wedding party, “isn't for me either. But, humour me. What do you think _I'd_ say?"

 

Shaw paused for a moment to think about Root’s request, before turning to face Root, her face a picture of intensity and seriousness. "I will support your need to kneecap, beat up or shoot bad guys until you physically are not able to. I will understand that there are at least three meals in a day - and that meals missed due to kneecapping must be made up for later. I understand that second breakfast is a legitimate meal."

 

Root chuckled. Trust Shaw to have two-thirds of the vows related to food and the other one about kicking ass.  She had always known that food and violence were the way to Shaw’s heart.

 

Root hadn't been lying – she didn't want anything like _this_. She didn't need a ring on her finger, a certificate, a name change. She didn't even want it. She just wanted Shaw to know that she, Root, belonged to Shaw. That, for her, _she_ came first. Not anyone else. Not even _Her_. The only thing she wanted from Shaw was for Shaw to be okay with that. _I am yours_. 

 

Root swallowed again, this time nervously.

 

"Those _are_ good. But you did miss out a few, though.” She glanced over at Shaw, who had a curious expression on her face. “I think I would also have to say: I will not use the machine to check up on you unless I am concerned that your life is in danger. I will give you space when you need it. And _you_ come before _Her_. Always."

 

She looked right at Shaw as she said the last word, needing her to not doubt her sincerity.

 

Shaw held her gaze for a second before looking away. Another period of silence, which seemed to last an eternity to Root, passed as Shaw sat contemplating what Root had just said. The concessions she had made. The declaration she had more or less just made. She felt her heart thumping in her chest and her stomach felt… weird. Kind of like she was really hungry but without the rumbling. Her head was telling her that this was not good. This was an unknown entity, uncharted territory for her. Her instincts edged her towards fight, or flight.

 

She was scared.

 

 _What is there to be scared of dumb-ass?_  She chastised herself. _You don’t run. You fight back. You give as good as you get._

 

Finally she spoke.  "I, uh, might have a few more too."

 

"Yeah?" Root said, apprehensively.

 

"Yeah. I don’t think that they’re as, uh, _good_ as yours though.” Shaw almost looked nervous. This was not something Root was familiar with. She fought the urge to reach over and touch Shaw’s face.

 

Shaw continued, “I promise not to roll my eyes at every suggestive comment you make.” This made Root smile – she knew how hard _that_ would be for Shaw.

 

Shaw looked right at Root when she added, “I will try not to joke about preferring food, or the dog, to you.” Root relaxed a little, smiling. While it wasn't exactly a public reciprocation, it seemed that Shaw hadn't been totally freaked out by what Root had said.

 

She was surprised when Shaw looked away, then took a deep breath, before closing her eyes, adding softly, “and I will hold you when you need me to.... and sometimes when you don't." She opened her eyes and looked back at Root.

 

 Root thought that her eyes had never looked so big, so bright, so beautiful. She could see the hope and the fear burning behind them, displaying a vulnerability she had never seen in Shaw before.

 

The swell of feeling, rising up inside of Root like a flood, stung the back of her eyes and she bit her lip to try and stem the flow.  With a smile she said, “Sameen, that’s good enough for me.”

 

 

 


End file.
